


Ice Cream Kisses

by flootzavut



Series: Kate & Gibbs [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e07 Sub Rosa, F/M, Kibbs, Smangst, Smut, canon compatible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take one sub without aircon, two NCIS agents, five bowls of ice cream, a hefty helping of UST and rule 12. Shake. Serve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Cream Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda UST smutty angst. Blame my muse. Sort of canon compatible.

* * *

_**Ice Cream Kisses** _

* * *

 

It seems like the aircon is going to take a while to kick in again, and Kate supposes there are more important things to this sub crew right now than keeping a couple of NCIS agents from boiling alive on their way back to Norfolk. At least they have the ice cream, because while coffee may cool Gibbs down and help him think, all Kate wants is a nice fresh breeze or a cold shower or for the aircon to start working properly already.

"You gonna share?" The ice cream is all pretty good - well, okay, she hasn't braved the pumpkin yet - and Gibbs doesn't really do gentlemanly behaviour, but he has been married, what, three times? four? He should know better than to steal any kind of chocolate out from under a woman's nose, never mind then hogging the bowl.

"Nope."

"Gibbs!"

He grins smugly at her, and the next thing she knows a small but very cold blob of ice cream has landed on her cheek. For a second she just stares at him in shock - Gibbs can do teasing? Gibbs can be playful? - and then she flips some back.

It lands at the corner of his lips - she never claimed she could aim with a spoon, so it's pure luck - and he licks it off slowly, eyes half closed.

Neither of them speak. He flips another spoonful at her - a larger one this time, and either by cunning or chance it actually hits her right on her half open mouth. She laughs as she sucks it off her lips, then stops laughing when his eyes go dark and the look he shoots at her makes her belly clench. A splat of butter pecan lands on the other side of his mouth and he licks it off efficiently, but there's more this time and his tongue isn't _quite_ that long.

"I think you missed a bit," she says, and before he can respond or she can think, she's leaning forwards and licking it off his cheek herself.

The ice cream is sweet and cold but she can taste the salt and heat of his skin under it, and when she's done she doesn't lean back in her chair, stays in his space, and they're looking at each other and breathing each other's air and suddenly Kate thinks the aircon is going to make no difference whatsoever.

With his free hand he cups her jaw and tilts her head just so, and then he's licking that first blob off her cheek and she can't stop the whimper when he doesn't stop, when he licks and sucks and kisses his way to her earlobe which he then lightly bites. Part of her is freaking out, _what the hell is happening here?_ but mostly she's just... _really_ enjoying it.

She's so lost in sensation that the next spoonful is a complete surprise when it lands in the open collar of her blouse. She shivers and squeals again, "Gibbs!" but he makes his leisurely, laughing way down her neck and by the time he reaches the ice cream it's starting to melt and she moans, unabashedly moans, as his tongue dips luxuriantly into her cleavage to retrieve a drip.

 _Two can play at this game_. She grabs his hand, which is still grasping the spoon, licks at the ice cream which has melted down onto his fingers, coaxes one sticky digit into her mouth. He looks up at her, surprised, and she just continues to suck, delicately but suggestively, not dissembling or looking away, and when he leans down to take another swipe of her skin, she can feel his soft groan against against her shoulder.

When he raises his eyes to hers again they are full of want and need, and she's not at all surprised when he reaches forwards and pulls her into his lap, straddling his waist, the arousal she hadn't noticed before making her gasp where it presses up against her.

"Which one's your favourite?" he murmurs, and for a moment she truly hasn't a clue what he's talking about.

"What?"

"Favourite flavour?"

She laughs and smiles. "You."

He blinks and actually looks embarrassed, and she could give herself a high five except she's too busy tugging at the buttons of his shirt. She yelps when another cold spoonful lands along her collarbone, and really this is unfair and he's wearing _too much clothing_ , damn him.

He has more success with her blouse, and it occurs to her, as he chases down trails of chocolate, that Gibbs is licking and biting her skin (and doing a really good job of it, incidentally), moving down over her breast, and they haven't even kissed yet.

She finally manages to get some purchase on his clothes (why is he wearing an undershirt in this heat, what the hell is _wrong_ with him?), pushes the fabric off his shoulder, and then she's merrily daubing him with ice cream and hey, what do you know? Pumpkin actually tastes _pretty fine_ when licked and bitten off his skin to the accompaniment of his moaning laugh right against her neck.

Somewhere along the way the spoons have disappeared and neither of them is even pretending this is remotely about ice cream any more as she presses into his body, so surprisingly solid and firm, like she's wanted to do again ever since the emergency blow gave her a front row seat to touching him. His hands have found the skin of her back, his mouth is moving again, lower and deliciously lower. Her bra strap is halfway down her shoulder, and she gives up on retribution when he manages to nudge aside enough material to suck on her nipple. Would it be too uncool at this point to just remove all vestiges of clothing and shame and beg him to do her up against the door?

She lets her body move instinctively against him, against the bulge in his pants, lets her head fall back, lets herself enjoy.

He's really shockingly good at this, and she should damn well have taken the chance while she had it, back before she was NCIS, before the plane touched down, should've put that gun back in the armoury and then dragged him into the bathroom and initiated them both into the world's most prestigious mile high club.

"Kate..." If it wasn't her name he was moaning, it might have been entirely incomprehensible, and she rather likes knowing it's her doing. "Kaaaate..."

He doesn't need to say it - there's nowhere for them to go, she's fairly sure it didn't occur to him to pack condoms for this trip, either, and right now their clothing is in enough disarray that if someone unexpectedly knocks on the door, they're already seriously screwed - but somehow she's also sure he doesn't want to let go of this moment, whatever it is, any more than she does. And that if they do let it go, they may never get it back.

 _Well_... "A good NCIS agent should always be ready to improvise, don't you think?" She shifts over and lets her eyes flutter closed for a moment at the feel of finally, _finally_ getting part of him properly between her legs - even if it is only his thigh - and then tentatively slides her hand down to where he's hard and waiting for her.

She smirks at his surprised and heartfelt groan. Apparently even though he was just licking melted ice cream from her breasts, even though his mouth is still open against her neck, he is shocked to have her touching him, and for some reason that gives her the confidence to continue, to no longer be cautious, to exercise all the skill she has (and she flatters herself it's not inconsequential) in making a man come in his boxers.

Watching him go wide-eyed and listening to his breathing stutter makes her smirk widen. He grunts and thrusts his hips up at her, and she can't help but revel in seeing him actually starting to lose control, something that in the time since she joined the team she had come to believe just wasn't possible.

"Could use a little help myself," she says, pointedly, and grinds down into his thigh to make her point.

He gets the message fast - well, of course he does, he's _Gibbs_ \- and she grins, then moans as his hand presses up into her, unsurprised to discover this is just one more thing he's ridiculously good at. She lets her eyes close, lets herself fall into the moment, lets her moans mirror his as they find a rhythm.

She's so focused on the task in hand (overflowing one hand, in fact, but she needs the other to grip tight on his shoulder and not fall out of his lap), she doesn't realise he's gone a step further until his fingers are sliding down over and then into her panties and when did he get her fly down without her noticing?

He makes a sound of wonder, and if she was less turned on she might be embarrassed by how slick and wet she is, but _holy fuck_ , he really knows his way around, and his 'God, Katie' does not hurt _at all_. His other hand is on her breast again, pinching her nipple, and his breath is hard in her ear, and he sounds out of control and damn, but it's hot. She whines and moves against him and absolutely loses track of time, and when she comes apart she smothers her whimper in his shoulder.

When she eventually looks up at him, Gibbs seems almost dazed. He puts his hand up to his mouth, and she's not even sure he's consciously aware what he's licking from his fingers so carefully and thoroughly, with a little rumble of pleasure, is most definitely _not_ ice cream. She's embarrassed and aroused all at once and so she hides her face in his neck and redoubles her own efforts. He's not far behind her, and she just about holds herself together long enough to help him finish.

She can feel his shudder as he comes, and maybe it shouldn't surprise her so much but when 'Katie' tumbles out of his mouth again she's genuinely taken aback. He's breathing hard still, and she blinks, wondering if she heard him right.

His lips touch her ear again, and his free hand cradles her face with less need and more tenderness, pressing his face into hers, and she feels his eyelashes flutter against her cheek and a sigh float out over her neck and _what is this, what did this just become?_ He pulls away enough to catch her eye, and his own blink slowly before his mouth is brushing lightly, very carefully over hers, and in all the very enjoyable dry humping of the last few minutes there was nothing that made her heart race or her toes curl quite like this. She finds herself melting, wishing they'd started here, not ended here, and she fists her hands in his shirt and whines with longing as the kiss deepens.

When he suddenly pulls away and looks down, she feels with a dreadful certainty that whatever happened here, whatever this was, it's Over with a capital O. He looks pained, embarrassed, ashamed.

She wants to tell him she doesn't regret it, doesn't for a moment regret now knowing the sound of his orgasm, the particular way his body reacts, tenses, moves when aroused, the taste of his skin under her tongue; that actually, even if this is everything she's ever going to get, she absolutely and positively _refuses_ to regret it. But she's sure he doesn't want to hear it. Quietly she stands up, not missing the way he watches, longingly, as she straightens her clothing, readjusts her bra so it's actually doing the job it was meant to do, buttons up her blouse.

She wonders if there's any way of convincing him he can do this any time he likes, and suspects there probably isn't. This has happened in the wrong time, the wrong way, the wrong place, and she's pretty sure if they ever had any chance (which she sincerely doubts), they just ruined it.

His continued failure to redress himself has her moving back over to him and carefully doing up the buttons of his shirt. To her surprise he doesn't protest, and so when she reaches his breastbone (she's not cruel enough to button it up to his neck in this heat, however tempting it was for a moment) she catches his chin in her hand and tilts his face up to hers. He doesn't have time to resist, but it takes his eyes a moment to meet hers, and if she was the sentimental sort she'd think he was as close to breaking as she's ever seen him.

She knows he's what she wants, on those rare occasions when she's honest with herself. That she wants him much more than she likes to admit and always has. It never really occurred to her before that maybe he wants her, too. Not that she thinks either of them would ever have admitted as much, even tacitly, under normal circumstances.

She bends down and kisses him as tenderly as he kissed her, soft and sweet and hardly anything, except that it's everything and she feels sure they both know it. Then she forces herself away, grabs her go bag and ducks out of the room, trying to fool herself she isn't crying.

If her eyes are a little red when she comes back from the head in a clean top, he's not going to say anything. If the look he turns on her when she reappears is a bit more yearning than she's used to seeing, well, she's not about to point it out.

She's not surprised when they carry on as if nothing happened, as if neither of them knows what the other tastes like.

She's not surprised he still steals her coffee, still flirts with her and teases her the same way he always did, that it feels as natural as anything to continue to flirt back, to roll her eyes at him and contradict him and make snarky comments about his hair.

It says a lot about the nature of their relationship before the Philadelphia that Gibbs has had his hand in her underwear and sucked her arousal off of his fingers, and she has watched his face as she touched him and heard him whisper her name as he came, and Tony, who prides himself on his nose for gossip, has absolutely no idea.

She's not even surprised, a week or three later, when Gibbs tells her on a warm Cuban evening that romance between agents, Kate? It never works.

If anything, the look on his face when he says it, the ache there, at least reassures her she didn't just imagine it all.

The only thing that surprises her, in fact, besides how much it hurts, is how little it changes anything.

_~ fin ~_


End file.
